Entangled
by SireneNomdePlume
Summary: Hermione doesn't go to church often, but it was the least she could do for her parents. The cemetery there is peaceful, quiet. But something lurks in the woods, and Hermione is shocked to find out what...or who...haunts the night.


**I had inspiration from a Japanese demon (yokai) called jorogumo. While they are typically female, I wanted to try something with this idea since they are also sometimes classified as undead instead of a demon. A jorogumo hypnotizes humans with a magical lute and can control fire-breathing spiders before devouring their captured prey. Their diet consists of human flesh and blood, and I wanted to write something creepy and weird.**

Her mother and father always went to Sunday mass. She would rather be buried in a book, inhaling the scent of ink and worn parchment, but after reuniting with them, she knew it was the least she could do to join them. It was the same as it had been years ago: take communion, sing hymns, go to the local restaurant for breakfast. She had almost missed it, missed the comfort of being able to share one thing with her family.

And now she knelt on the steps of Saint Peter's church, feeling the glare of the stony gargoyles as she ran her fingers over her rosary, the cool moonstone smooth against her fingertips. She wasn't devout, but what harm could come of this?

The cross dangled between her fingers, and she closed her eyes and drew in a breath.

 _"Our Father, who art in heaven...hallowed be thy name..."_

Heat brushed her, sudden and shocking. She felt as if she were smothering from the blanket of warmth that breezed over her face. It was freshly autumn, the chill settling in the changing trees and dying grass. She opened her eyes slowly. The wind that lifted her hair was hot like the breath of a dragon, so stifling it made beads of sweat drip down her brow. She clutched her rosary and stood up.

Hermione stepped to the back of the church, fall leaves crunching under her flats as she wandered through the cemetery. Her hand trailed over headstones, and she remembered Godric's Hollow, how the snow had fallen gently over the slashes of names on each stone. She glanced down at one cracked stone, feeling a pang of sorrow shoot through her. _In loving memory of Ellie Wilson._ The girl had been only six. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her chest as she ventured deeper into the yard.

The air was hot and dry as she stepped through the cemetery and closer to the small expanse of trees that burned orange even in the night. Hermione tucked her rosary into her pocket and leaned on one tree, observing the cemetery. Perhaps she should go home.

Another brush of air, this time over her face. Hermione smelled smoky campfire and burning spices. She opened her mouth to gasp in a breath. Despite the heat, her bones felt iced and weary. Light powder fell on her tongue, and she snapped her mouth shut against the grey ashes that drifted around her like snowflakes.

The heat was overbearing now, and she could feel her body flush as she tried to move from against the tree. _Soft._ Something feathery and warm touched her cheek, and she snapped her head to the side but saw nothing but darkness.

She lifted her back from the tree, but her limbs felt heavy and worn. A soft melody drifted through the trees and her breathing calmed, her racing heart slowing to a soothing pace. The music was lilting and tranquil, and she sighed as she slipped down the tree and sat at the base, gazing up at the night sky. The stars blinked at her like a thousand eyes, watching and waiting. _What were they waiting for?_

 _"Shhh."_

Hermione jumped at the sibilant murmur that lifted to her ears, and she trembled as the heat became overbearing. The music had stopped, and her heart pounded, blood rushing to her ears. Something was _wrong._ She placed her palms on the cold ground to lift herself up, wet, rotten leaves clinging to her hands as she tried to vault herself up. But something caught each wrist and she jerked back as she was flung against the tree.

Panting, she glanced at one wrist. Soft, silky threads tied her limbs to the tree. The hair on her arms stood up and stuck to the strands that were oozing like milky honey. She hadn't brought her wand, and she cursed as she struggled against the webbing that bound her to the tree.

'Who's there?" she cried, whipping her body back and forth. The strands held strong, and no matter which way she twisted her body, it had no effect on her bonds.

Something scuttled against the leaves and Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat as she caught a glimpse of three spidery appendages, twisting and grasping toward her as she pressed closer to the tree.

 _"You."_

The bonds dissolved suddenly, and Hermione fell to her knees, crying out as her kneecaps hit a hard patch of dirt. It was impossibly dark, and the pearlescent fall of moon-glow was her only light. Eight black eyes glinted at her before closing slowly. A sweetly scented mist settled around her, and sweat dripped down her brow as she squinted in the dark. The crunch of spidery limbs coming closer toward her transitioned to footsteps, and she broke out in a run.

Harsh breaths wracked her body as she stepped around headstones, leaping over one as she heard the footsteps follow her, never breaking its slow pace. It was as if her captor knew she wouldn't be able to escape, and her stomach roiled in protest as she ran faster.

Her leg hit a headstone and she fell down with a cry, sliding to her side as she whimpered. Why hadn't she thought to bring her wand? She clutched her rosary in hand. It was the only thing she had.

The footsteps halted, and Hermione drew in a deep breath. She rubbed her wrists, still sticky with residual webbing. What was she up against? Why did it want her?

That sweet scent lifted to her nose again, and music softly lifted through the silence once more. She froze. It was peaceful; such a sorrowful tune, deep and raw with some sort of emotion she couldn't place her finger on. She wanted to hear more. She didn't want the music to end.

She closed her eyes and hummed through her nose as she leaned against a cold headstone. The song drew closer, and she stretched her arms out, tapping her fingers against the dirt.

Something fell to the ground and a wand tipped her chin, breaking her from her trance.

She couldn't see whoever it was, but it was definitely male, his scent spiced and dark, with an underlining sweetness like candied ginger. She tipped her head back but the wand followed. Why would a wizard be following her?

"You enjoyed my music."

Hermione drew in a sharp breath. She recognized the smooth, deep voice, so soft like moth powder fluttering in her ears. "How?"

A low chuckle wrapped around her, then feathery tendrils brushed up against her face and her skin crawled. It felt as if spiders were scampering over her heated flesh, and she dared not open her mouth. The sensation stopped, and the wand retreated before light burst from the tip.

Snape set the wand down on top of a headstone, and Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at his profile in the bright light.

He looked the same as he always had in school, but...slightly younger, somehow. His face lacked the hardened scowl marks, his features were no longer etched with pain and anger. His eyes were like flints, sparking as he stared at her hungrily. What did he want from her?

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione whispered. Snape let out a long breath and raised his hand to stroke her cheek lightly. He was crouched down in front of her, his long legs brushing up against hers.

"I'm hungry," he said, and opened his mouth. His teeth were sharp, dripping saliva. A drop of green liquid fell from his elongated tongue and splattered on the ground, and the dirt steamed and sizzled around the liquid.

Hermione scuttled away from the gravestone and tried to stand up, but Snape's hand shot out and grasped her wrist.

"Don't go," he whispered. "Help me."

Hermione gasped, struggling to take back her hand. Snape squeezed, and Hermione could feel his fingers imprint on her flesh. The rosary slipped from her hand and brushed against his skin, and with a hiss, he let her go. His pallid flesh was blistered from where the rosary had touched him.

Hermione leaped back, watching as Snape stared up at her, swallowing and closing his maw, shielding his horrifying teeth from her view. "You're dead."

Snape's gaze never wavered from her face. "Yes."

"If you're dead, you can't very well be here, now, can you?" Hermione said, feeling frustration bubble up inside of her. "What do you want?"

"You."

Hermione's heart stuttered. "Why...how did you know to find me?"

Snape's face split in a terrifying smile. "I wasn't looking for are just...convenient."

"So if a Muggle..."

"They would be dead by now," Snape said, his tone casual. "Tell me why I should spare you."

"You...you can't..." Hermione started. "I don't know what you want from me."

In a streak of black, Snape stood before her, grasping her shoulders, trailing a finger down her neck. "Your flesh...it's tender. I can smell your blood. Let me-"

"No!" Hermione shrugged his hands away and slapped him across the face, her nails catching on his cheek.

The silence that followed was nearly unbearable. Hermione knew she should run, but something in his haunted eyes made her pause. Sorrow and regret brimmed at the surface, and she had never seen his cold, unfeeling eyes seem so expressive before. Or maybe she just never noticed.

"What happened to you?" Hermione whispered. "What are you?"

"That's of no importance," Snape hissed, and raised his hand to the scratches on his cheek. "I _will_ get what I came here for."

"You won't get it from me," Hermione said. But she couldn't very well hurt him, even as she palmed the rosary in her hand. He was beyond her reach, and even if she had her wand...it was obvious he wasn't human anymore. She had a tender spot for creatures such as this, misunderstood, reviled...

"Why did you come here?" Hermione asked. Did he lurk in other cemeteries, waiting for an unsuspecting human to pass his way and...

She gulped as she glanced down at the long arms reaching toward her, and gasped as his hands morphed into pincer-like claws, covered in black spines.

"You can't have me," Hermione repeated, and drew her rosary out and dangled it in front of his face. Snape recoiled, and his spidery arms retreated back into human flesh once more.

"Muggles have sufficed so far," Snape murmured, his eyes following the rosary that swayed before his face. "But witches...magic...taste so much better."

"You won't kill me," Hermione said. "I'll leave here, and you'll go and not come back."

Snape turned his head away from her rosary and sighed. "I have nowhere to go. Perhaps..."

Hermione frowned and dropped to her knees as Snape's eyes tracked her every motion. "Maybe I can help you."

"You can't," Snape growled, and his lips parted, every sharp tooth glinting in the moonlight. Hermione shuddered but didn't move.

"Why do you haunt these places? Not many people must come here at night."

"A few lost souls," Snape said, "wanting to meet their loved ones again. I give them what they crave."

"I'm not lost," Hermione answered. "I wanted to be alone. It's quiet here." She paused and looked at him as he averted his eyes.

Snape said nothing. Hermione sighed and lifted her other hand, tapping her fingers on his scratched cheek. "I'm sorry for that, by the way. You frightened me."

Snape's eyes widened. "Why are you still here?"

"I want to help you," Hermione said, dropping her hand and gazing at his pale face. Snape sneered.

"You can't," Snape answered, his tone frigid and hollow. He slid his hand forward to brush his fingers against her arm, and she shivered as the hair stood up at his touch. He was impossibly warm, and soft, and she closed her eyes against the light of his wand. "You can feed me," he murmured, and his touch became more abrasive, scratching and predatorial as he leaned closer.

Hermione slammed the rosary against his chest as he jerked away. He hissed as a shimmering mist coalesced around him, and he crouched on his heels, staring at her hungrily as she pressed her back against the headstone.

Snape stared at her, his gaze unwavering, full of chilled detachment yet somehow heated at the same time. He was a hunter, a predator. Hunger seemed to be the only thing on his mind, as he opened his mouth again, a string of venomous saliva dripping from his thin lips and onto the earth, melting the mud with a steaming hiss.

Shaking slightly, Hermione stood up, brandishing her rosary before her as Snape stared up at her, his mouth widening, ready to pounce.

She ran.

/

Hermione tossed her wand from hand to hand. She couldn't drag her mind away from the image of Snape, alone, starving in the cemetery. She wanted to help him, but she was...apprehensive wasn't the right word for it...when he cornered her, terror had stricken her so suddenly that her head reeled and her heart pounded and raced in her brittle chest.

Could he eat animals? Would that be enough for him? She shuddered at the thought of offering an innocent animal for him to feast upon, but if his diet was strictly human, would this actually work?

Hermione didn't know, but as she gazed out of her bedroom window and watched dusk paint the sky in soft colors, she knew she'd find out in less than an hour.

"Hermione?"

"I'll be back, Dad," Hermione called, tucking her wand and rosary into her jeans pocket. She walked with heavy footsteps to the church, rounding the corner to the cemetery. A rustle sounded behind a nearby bush, and she cast a Stupefy. A fat squirrel fell with a thump on its side, and Hermione scooped him up. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and retreated further into the patch of woods, waiting to hear the soft tune of Snape's lute once more.

Before long, night had settled in the cemetery, the moon shining and bright. Hermione tapped her wand on her palm, setting the unfortunate squirrel next to her, avoiding looking at it as much as she could.

And then the music lifted to her ears once more, and she sighed, uncrossing her legs to stretch before her. She nearly dropped her wand as her body became lax with relaxation, and she blinked furiously, trying to steel her muscles against the soft tune.

"You came back."

There were no webs this time, and Hermione glanced up at Snape who stood before her, his eyes so black that they melded with the night sky. His face was as pale as the moon itself, nearly luminescent, and Hermione swallowed as she reached for the squirrel and offered it to Snape.

"I told you I'd help. Here, take it."

Snape stared at the squirrel with an unreadable expression on his face. He crouched down, his fingers reaching for hers. He pinched the squirrel delicately by its neck and lifted it to his face, studying it silently.

Hermione cringed and averted her eyes as his mouth opened and then his teeth crunched down, flaying the skin as blood sprayed, some of it spattering on her face. A few gulps later and the squirrel was gone, bones and all, and Snape leaned on his haunches, picking fur out of his sharp teeth.

"Thank you," Snape said, "but animals don't sate me for very long." Hermione glanced up at him, his blood-soaked face solemn as he stared at her.

"I don't know what else I can do to help you," Hermione admitted. "I'm not even sure what you are...now, I mean."

"I'm not living..." Snape started. "Nor am I dead. I'm something in between, and it is..."

He drifted off, and Hermione felt a pang of sympathy strike through her heart suddenly. Snape reached into his black robes and procured a silver lute, his fingers dancing over it reverently. "You've grown up," he said, and Hermione started.

"P-pardon?"

Snape sneered, and it reminded her of how he was at Hogwarts, cold and abrasive. "You aren't very aware of it, are you?"

"Aware of what?" Hermione asked, her heart beating sporadically. Snape snorted. There was a pregnant pause, and suddenly Snape lifted his hand, reaching for Hermione's face. He held his hand over her cheek, not quite touching her, but close enough that she could feel his heat. His hand dropped, and Hermione felt a sudden loss as a cold chill breezed through the cemetery.

"I...I should go," Hermione stated, gathering herself together and standing up. Snape stood as well, his stance menacing. Hermione was acutely aware of how tall and dangerous he was, and how small she felt, in that brief moment.

"Will you return?" Snape asked, and Hermione wrapped her arms around herself as she shivered...although it wasn't very cold, not anymore. A golden mist was forming around Snape, and the heat emanating from it flushed her skin.

"Perhaps," Hermione answered. She shot a departing gaze at Snape, and his bloody face, and shuddered as she stepped out of the cemetery.

It was freshly midnight when she heard the music, soft and dark drifting past her window. Hermione rose slowly and stood up. Snape.

How did he know where to find her? What did he want? She touched the rosary that hung around her neck; for some reason, she had slept with it on.

Her feet moved of their own accord, her body drawn to the music that seemed to sing for her soul alone. She slid her slippers on and padded downstairs as quietly as she could, her eyes unfocused as if she were in a trance. She opened the door and the music came to an abrupt halt. She glanced on either side; why did he stop?

The music started again, and Hermione followed the song as it drifted further away. She sighed, her eyes closing as she hummed under her breath. But it was _beautiful._ Hermione opened her eyes; she was in front of the church, and she drew in a sharp breath as she rounded the corner and walked deeper into the cemetery.

The music faded, and Hermione groaned at the loss. Her body thrummed with sudden panic, blood rushing to her head as she backed away from a headstone. She turned to flee but a hand grabbed her ankle.

"Don't leave," Snape murmured, and Hermione drew in deep, gasping breaths. His hand slipped from her ankle and he drew himself up from the shadows, standing before her in all of his intimidating glory. Hermione shook her head, but she remembered that she wanted to help him in any way she could. She inhaled through her nose and forced herself to stare into his eyes.

"I won't," Hermione said, and sat down near a headstone, patting the space next to her. "Why don't you tell me more about yourself. What do you need?"

"I already told you," Snape hissed, then paused, turning to her, his nostrils flared. "Why do you want to help me?"

Hermione opened her mouth, only to close it again. She wanted to help him...he was non-human, but not helpless...dangerous, but not without feeling...she knew that they owed him for the War, and what he had sacrificed for all of their sakes. And for Harry's mother, his lost love...

 _He must be lonely,_ she mused. She inhaled another shaky breath and shook her head.

"I just want to," Hermione answered. Her hand was splayed next to her on a cold patch of dirt, and she gasped when Snape's fingers stroked over the fragile skin. In the moonlight, she could see blue veins thrum underneath his pale flesh. She didn't snatch her hand away. His touch was warm, it was welcome. She rested her back against the tree closest to the headstone and gazed at him.

"Do you want to hear more?" Snape asked, drawing the lute out from his robes with his free hand. Hermione nodded slowly. Snape's lips quirked and he lifted his hand off of Hermione's and strummed the silvery lute gently. The soft melody was melancholy yet peaceful, and Hermione let her head rest against the tree, feeling the bark peel against her skull.

Her body relaxed and she stretched her legs, feeling her joints pop pleasantly as her muscles melted and her skin flushed. Heat was radiating off of him and she wanted to curl her body into his and feel his warmth.

So she did, and he didn't shy away like she thought he would. He felt like a hot cup of tea on a cold, rainy day, a crackling fireplace, glowing and hot as snow fell on iced ground like dying flower petals.

She muttered in protest when the music stopped suddenly. He lifted both hands and slipped the small lute back into his robes, but she still felt calm, as if nothing could harm her, as if she could do anything she wanted. She glanced up at him, and he was staring off into the distance, his face tight and eyes shimmering.

"It's alright," Hermione said, and reached up to pet his cheek timidly. Snape froze, his body going rigid against her.

"You're playing a dangerous game," Snape said, his voice soft as velvet. Hermione shook her head.

"It's alright," she said. Snape gazed down at her, his black eyes flashing as his lips twitched. "It's alright."

In a fluid motion, Snape turned on her, dragging her body down so she was laying on the grassy floor. He caged her underneath his burning, hard body, and a low growl ripped from his throat. She gasped as his hands made quick work of her pajama bottoms, ripping them down the middle and baring her to the night sky. She bit her lip. She'd only done this with Ron once...and it hadn't been anything remarkable, but she knew what to expect. But Snape surprised her. Instead of pulling his erection out of his robes, his practiced fingers danced on her belly before sliding over her mons, parting the lips and dragging a single finger across the slit of her pussy.

Hermione's body jerked up against him as he slowly circled her clit, pressing down lightly as she let out a strangled moan, shocking herself with the high, needy pitch.

He was silent all throughout, but when she forced her eyes open to stare up at him, she could see his chest moving up and down at a rapid pace, spurts of breath steaming against the cold night air. His long tongue licked his lips, stroking the top lip slowly as his eyes stayed riveted on her face. She groaned as he rubbed his finger up and down, plucking at her clit as expertly as he had with the lute strings. She clutched her legs together and keened as she felt his heat soak into her, and her insides bubbled like static as she spiraled up, and up...

"I'm sorry," Snape said softly, and Hermione could barely process his words as her body shattered into pieces in his hands. She cried out, trembling as her orgasm crashed through her, bursting like a searing flash of lightning. He wrapped his arms around her, dragging her body up as he kissed her, his tongue breaching her lips as she opened her mouth readily against him. He tasted like sparkling wine and sharp ginger, tingling on the tip of her tongue. His tongue licked alongside hers, and he seemed intent on devouring every bit of her, pulling back to suckle on her bottom lip. Hermione broke away first, sighing and falling down on the grass. She started to lift her arm to reach for him, but...

Something was wrong.

Her body felt as if it were stuck in slow motion, but her mind whirled in panic. She couldn't move.

"What did you do?" Hermione whispered, and it took every bit of effort to form the words through numb lips.

"I'm sorry," Snape said again, and Hermione drew in heavy, rapid breaths as his jaws fell open and he came closer...

A spurt of adrenaline rushed through her and she ripped the rosary off of her neck and shoved it against his face. Snape howled in pain as his flesh bubbled and steamed, the lute falling and breaking into pieces against a headstone. She lifted herself up but her body felt so heavy...she stumbled as she drew her wand out. Frantically, she scoured her brain for a spell, _any_ spell to repel the monster Snape had become.

 _"Arania Exumai!"_

With a weak cry, Snape flew back, hitting a tree as he collapsed, his arms spiking with black thorns as he clutched his face. His legs were trembling fiercely, and Hermione scampered back, turning on her heel and dragging her feet as fast as she could.

The venom was still rushing through her system, but she wasn't immobilized. She had to get out of here. She stumbled to her house, cracking the door open. Her parents were still asleep, and she heaved out a sigh of relief. Slowly she made her way up the steps to her bedroom, where she collapsed on the bed, her body sinking into the mattress.

She tried to save him. She tried to help him. She _tried._

 _/_

Hermione brushed her teeth, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

 _'You've grown up.'_

 _'You aren't very aware of it, are you?'_

His face swam at the forefront of her mind, and she shuddered. It had been obvious that he hated what he had become, that he was full of regret, sorrow. But he had been hungry, and Hermione couldn't say if he had been selfish or...desperate. She dropped her toothbrush. Her hands were shaking. She picked it back up to rinse it off and made her way back to the bedroom to comb out her frizzy hair and pull on her pajamas.

Hermione sighed as she turned off the light. She had nightmares last night; of his face boiling, the sounds he made as she struck him with the rosary. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned on her side. Snape was gone, and she wasn't sure why she felt so horrible about it.

A soft tune trailed through her ears, and she stood up, sliding to the window. She cracked it open and squinted. The song played again...it was different, she felt warm, she felt loved...there was no sadness, no anger in the music. She padded down the stairs in her trance, opening the door as if she were mechanic.

She was barefoot, the cold ground bitter against the soles of her feet. She stood in front of the church, not blinking, but the sense of dread she should feel was non-existent. She felt safe and full, and she drew in a breath as she stared into the cemetery.

There were no burns on his face, no proof that anything had transpired between them. His lips stretched into a smile, and she was sure it was meant to be kind, but it was so out of place on him that her heart started pounding with fear. And anticipation, as he crooked his finger and she slowly walked toward him. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and his arms reached out for her, his eyes soft, heated soot.

"Hello, Miss Granger."


End file.
